A part of me is devastated.
And yet.
Somewhere underneath all of the fear, the loss, and self-pity, tucked right behind my sternum, something else uncurls. Warm. Bright. Shamelessly smug.
My omega does a happy little spin.
Because we’re going home.With our alphas.
25
Luna
Two hours later
I bury my face in the collar of Bram’s flannel.
Dark leather. Bitter black coffee.
It hits the back of my sinuses like premium, top-shelf coke (which I’ve never done, but still).
I purr.More.
I turn my head on the couch cushions, dragging my nose across the wool blanket over my knees toward Ash, who’s sitting beside me. I press my face right into the crook of his neck.
Cedar. Sweet chocolate.
“Ohhh,” I mumble into the cotton of his shirt.
Reed sits on the coffee table in front of me. I catch his woodsmoke and musk, and my body instantly jerks, rearranging itself to drag me closer to him, blindly dumping my legs acrossto my left. Then, the sensory overload whites everything out for a second.
“Smell me all you need, beautiful,” Reed says, pushing a sweating glass of ice water into my hands. “Anything else I can get you?”
When the white haze clears, my focus locks onto the three of them.
Bram is on my right, his arm slung along the back of the couch behind my head. Ash is practically wearing my legs as a scarf. Reed is right in front of me, knees wide on the coffee table.
It’s an absurd picture, but given the state I was in before they carried me onto this couch, I’m too exhausted to care. I spent the ride home from the retreat half-unconscious, feeling a desperate, biological greed for all three.
“I think I’m short-circuiting,” I say, taking a sip of the water. “My brain is actively melting out of my ears.”
“Scent sickness is something else,” Ash says. He rubs his jaw, the fake blond mustache mercifully gone. “The doctor said our scents would hit you even harder over the next few hours, but it’s a good sign of recovery.”
“She also told me you guys wrestled six security guards,” I say, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Just to make sure I got proper care.”
Reed coughs, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on the rug. “Yeah. Sorry about that. The class I’d just taught had me kind of pumped up.”
“I actually think it’s hot,” I admit, leaning back into Bram’s arm. “Good thing they weren’t cops, though. Something tells me I wouldn’t be tucked up this comfy right now if they had been.”
Bram laughs, a deep, chesty rumble that vibrates against my shoulder. He reaches over, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Good thing the retreat sits practically in the same jurisdiction as Honeycreek Hollow, too. By the time thereal deputies showed, they recognized me. The fake-name stunt could’ve gone bad for Reed if I hadn’t been there to smooth it over.”
“Right,” I let out a chuckle, turning my attention to Reed. “And Bruce Jovi? What was that about?”
“We were going incognito,” Reed says. “Figured I might as well pick something with some flair.” He shrugs. “First thing that came to mind.”
“No wonder they bought it when I told them my baby brother’s a little slow,” Bram says, his chest still shaking against my shoulder.
“Hey!” Reed protests.
